


Super Trouper (Blaine's First Time)

by hedgerose, idoltina



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, roller skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerose/pseuds/hedgerose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina/pseuds/idoltina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt surprises Blaine with a date to the roller rink. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Trouper (Blaine's First Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Hedgerose took Idoltina out roller skating for the first time in a decade tonight and, well, this happened. Also, we promise that someday, we will write a comedy without head injuries; we had to make up for the lack of angst somehow. Thank you to our beta, penguinutopia!
> 
> Contains casual homophobia.

“Rinky Dinks?” Blaine reads, his brow furrowing. The rink is large and kind of... sparkly. There are neon lights _everywhere_ and a karaoke machine in the middle of the floor (that is thankfully not in use at the moment, but Blaine is really hoping for some duet action at some point during the night). “This is where we're going on our date tonight?” It's not quite what he had pictured, but he'd known that Kurt had some sort of theme going with the incredibly hot James Dean look (seriously, why can't Kurt wear tight t-shirts and jeans all the time?) and the greasy, _delicious_ burgers and fries they'd eaten for dinner.

“Yep,” Kurt affirms, beaming as he sets a pair of rental skates down at Blaine's feet. “Didn't your parents ever teach you how to roller skate when you were a kid?” Kurt asks.

“Have you met my parents?” Blaine counters, raising an eyebrow but tying the skates on none the less. They're rentals, and Blaine glares in envy at Kurt's low-top black skates with wide wheels that match his outfit perfectly, but finds himself grateful for the rental skates' sticky wheels the minute he stands up.

“Come on,” Kurt says brightly, offering Blaine his hand and gliding confidently ahead. “I'll teach you.” When they reach the edge of the rink, Kurt turns, watching Blaine wobble toward him. “The first thing you need to know,” he instructs, “is that this is not like walking. At all.”

“Okay,” Blaine says slowly. “So... how _do_ I--” He gestures in front of him, unsteady on his feet. “-- move? Go forward?”

“Keep you feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees and lean forward slightly-- do not lean back, that way lies broken wrists. Push out and back with your feet – not forward. If you fall, don't catch yourself with your hands,” Kurt says, gesturing and demonstrating as he explains.

Blaine does his best to do as Kurt says, but keeping everything in his mind while also trying to move is more than he can handle, so instead of skating out like Kurt does, he clings to the railing around the edge of the rink and inches his way along. Within a few minutes, Kurt has come around and lapped him. Kurt swings around in front of Blaine, facing him, and Blaine, who hasn't really been paying attention, starts, flails, and promptly falls on his ass.

Kurt looks like he is trying _really hard_ not to laugh, but there's a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. Blaine groans, just a little, and reaches his hands up. “Gimme a hand?” he says, pouting. Kurt grins at him and takes his hands firmly, hauling Blaine to his feet.

“Falling on wood floors is no fun,” he says.

“Nope,” Kurt says agreeably. “But then, I haven't actually fallen in years.”

Blaine shoots him a dirty look. “I hate you,” he says.

Kurt looks around them-- there's no one close who could overhear, so he says, “You know you love me.”

Blaine smiles, looking sideways at Kurt. “Yeah,” he says.

It takes Blaine a full five minutes to circle the edge of the ring once, and as his terror subsides, he starts to pay attention to the people around him. There are a few kids and their parents, inching along the edge with him, stumbling and falling every few feet but laughing all the same. Blaine feels the heat creeping to his face as he watches them. Most of the skaters, though, are junior high kids. They seem perfectly at ease on wheels, spinning each other around in circles. Some of them have dressed up, a blur of sequins and colorful leggings and skirts as they whiz by Blaine. There's one boy – he can't be more than ten, Blaine thinks – on roller blades instead of skates and he's skating _backwards_. Blaine, meanwhile, still hasn't let go of the railing.

“You're not doing it right,” Kurt laughs as he pulls up next to Blaine again. “You're tromping.”

“It's hard,” Blaine snaps defensively. “I can barely stand up and you want me to try and _move_.”

“Okay, okay, just – here, give me your hands. _Let go of the wall, Blaine_.” Blaine bites his lip but quickly shifts, grabbing at Kurt's hand and stumbling a little. “I've got you,” Kurt promises. “Bend your knees.” Blaine makes a rather dramatic show of bracing himself, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

Kurt starts to skate backward, pulling Blaine along with him. “Showoff,” Blaine grumbles.

Kurt smirks. “I'm only skating backwards, Blaine.”

Blaine gapes at him. “Only?”

“Focus, Blaine. Push out and back.”

Blaine draw in a breath and looks down at his feet. Out and- “Back?” he questions nervously. “I- that doesn't feel right.” Kurt urges him on silently. Out and back, and somehow Blaine's feet turn inward and his knees buckle. He falls forward, and it's only Kurt's hands that prevent him from skinning his palms or breaking his wrists. “Ow.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt says fondly, looking down at Blaine on the floor.

“Don't they make, like, knee pads? Wrist guards? Something?” Blaine says.

“As I learned from Coach Sylvester, the pain will make you learn faster,” Kurt says, and he pulls Blaine up by the hands he's still holding. He lets go of one hand and moves next to Blaine. “Okay, try again. Raise your foot – not too much – swing it back, and _then_ go forward.” He demonstrates and Blaine imitates; together, they glide forward.

“Hey!” Blaine exclaims, beaming at Kurt. “I did it!” Kurt smiles, but then Blaine's brake catches against the wood floor and he's falling again. This time he only lands on one knee but it still hurts like hell and Blaine can already feel it starting to bruise. “Ugh,” he groans.

“Those are your brakes,” Kurt says patiently. “Use them to slow down.”

“Slow down?” Blaine repeats, looking up at Kurt incredulously. “I have to be _going_ somewhere in order to do that.”

“Yes, slow down. You don't want to run into walls.” Blaine begs to differ because yes, running into walls actually _would_ be preferable to falling on his ass all night. But Kurt tugs him to his feet again, and Blaine's knee stings. “Again. Up, back, forward and out – don't angle your foot!” Kurt throws an arm out across Blaine's chest mid-step. “That's how you tripped on your brake last time.” Blaine wrinkles his nose and tries to concentrate. Somehow, his brain communicates with his feet and he moves forward a little. “Good!” Kurt praises. “Do you think you can manage on your own for a minute? I want to skate a few laps.”

Blaine bites his lip but lets go of Kurt's hand, nodding. Kurt speeds off effortlessly, and Blaine stares after him, jaw hanging open. He makes it look so _easy_. Blaine makes it down one length of the rink by the time Kurt comes around on his third lap; the song changes to 'Born This Way.'

All of a sudden Kurt is in the middle of the rink like a ringmaster, spinning and doing what is clearly some awesome choreography. Blaine thinks that he must have done the song with New Directions and _oh my god_.

Then he hits something, hard. Oh, right. The wall. Kurt had said something about the wall, and _seriously_ , ow. People do this for _fun_? Blaine sort of slides to the floor and sits there, legs tucked in and out of the way, and watches Kurt-- dancing? Skating? Gyrating? Kurt is _pretty_.

It's entirely possible that the wall hit his head.

Kurt eventually notices that Blaine isn't skating around the rink any more, and skates over to the edge of the rink where Blaine is sitting. “Hey,” he says, “are you okay?”

“The wall hit me,” Blaine says.

“I told it not to do that,” Kurt sighs, using the same tone of voice that he does when he talks to Brittany. “Come on, let's go sit down somewhere with fewer walls.” Blaine glares at him, but he takes Kurt's hands when they're offered. They skate (well, Blaine apparently _tromps_ ) over to the benches where they'd left their jackets and shoes. “Stay here,” Kurt says, depositing him alone on one of the benches and skating off again. Because really, where is Blaine going to go?

Blaine sits alone and moping for a few minutes. He doesn't really have anything to do except watch the skaters who are still on the floor-- most of whom are much better than he is. Even the pre-teens skate better than he does. It's kind of unfair.

“Here,” Kurt says, holding out a plastic bag of ice and a bottle of water. Suddenly, Blaine feels much less abandoned.

“Best boyfriend ever,” Blaine says happily, holding the bag of ice to his knee. Kurt sits down next to him and leans against Blaine's shoulder, just for a moment, so it looks like he's settling down instead of on a date with his boyfriend.

They sit in companionable silence through the next few songs (something by the BeeGees that Blaine is really tempted to skate to and some modern rap _something_ that has no discernable beat that Blaine is quite content to miss). But then 'Forget You' comes on and Kurt starts bouncing next to Blaine, and really, they can't stay sitting down for this one. Blaine heaves himself to his feet and reaches out a hand to Kurt, this time, and they make their way to the floor.

Even though Blaine is really more clunking his feet than actually skating at this point (the skates are _heavy_ , it's totally not Blaine's fault), they manage to stay next to each other for most of the song, trading lines and harmonies and really, _now_ Blaine understands this whole skating thing. Kurt starts laughing when Blaine mimes driving a car, just like he had when the Warblers did 'Bills Bills Bills,' and yeah, this is totally awesome. “Look at you,” Kurt teases, clapping his hands. “You're almost dancing! Bravo!”

Blaine twists his mouth into a slanted smile. “You don't have to rub it in. I'm aware of your superior skating skills.”

“Mmm, watch me,” Kurt buzzes, his voice low. He releases Blaine's hand and skates away, but Blaine feels a little more confident now and manages to mimic the gliding motion Kurt taught him earlier. Kurt moves around the rink several times, crossing his feet back and forth, spinning in circles, performing small jumps. Blaine fights the urge to call out, “Showoff!” again and instead smiles, admiring Kurt's form. _God_ , those jeans are tight.

When Kurt finally sidles up next to him again, Blaine pumps his fist in the air. “Congratulate me!” he prompts. “I did an entire lap without holding onto the wall!”

Kurt laughs and raises his fist along with Blaine's, brushing their knuckles together lightly. “You deserve a reward,” Kurt decides. “Let's go to the snack bar.” Blaine agrees and lets Kurt drag (literally drag, Blaine's just kind of coasting along behind Kurt at this point) him to a table by the snack bar. Kurt returns with more water and an order of cheese fries for Blaine “Seriously, how can you _eat_ those?” Kurt says disdainfully.

Blaine enjoys his reward thoroughly, dangling a few in front of Kurt's face. “Come on, just _try_ one.”

“ _No_.”

“This is my reward,” Blaine pouts. “I want to share it.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose, sighs, and leans forward to take a bite out of the fry in Blaine's hand. “Happy?” Blaine grins and Kurt groans. “Ugh, straight to my hips.”

“I _like_ your hips,” Blaine protests, reaching over to rub a thumb over the side of Kurt's jeans.

Kurt flushes and tosses the rest of the fries into a trash bin, ignoring Blaine's laments and pulling him to his feet. “Come admire them out on the floor. They're playing Britney next.”

Blaine stumbles only twice on the way back out onto the rink and, as Kurt predicted, 'Hold It Against Me' starts to play over the speakers. “How often do you come here?” Blaine asks, watching Kurt spin in front of him.

“Every week for over a year,” Kurt answers, squatting in preparation for a jump. “I used to come here all the time when I was little.”

“I can't see your dad coming here,” Blaine says with a laugh.

“Coast through the corners, don't pick up your feet,” Kurt instructs. “He didn't,” he adds almost as an afterthought. “My mom brought me.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, because sometimes he's crap at saying anything meaningful or even _useful_.

“Yeah-- it was always fun, coming with her.” Kurt's smile isn't sad, really-- it's more wistful than anything. “Anyway,” he says, changing the subject, “I'm going to go and skate by myself for a few laps-- I've got something I want to try, and the beat of this song works really well.”

“Of course,” Blaine says. “I'll try not to fall this time.”

Kurt just _looks_ at him. “Don't you _even_ , Blaine Warbler,” he says, and skates off and does something complicated with his feet that Blaine can't quite follow.

Blaine gets through a few more very shaky laps before the song ends and Kurt joins him again. Kurt takes his hand for just a minute and pulls him through a corner, then just sort of _launches_ Blaine down the straightaway. It's terrifying and amazing and Blaine sort of flails for a minute until he remembers to bend his knees-- then it gets a lot easier, especially when Kurt comes up behind him and pushes him through the next turn, hands warm and steady at Blaine's waist.

Eventually, Kurt lets him go, and Blaine slows down again. They skate side-by-side for a minute-- faster than Blaine is really comfortable with and slower than Kurt would like to be going. “You know,” Blaine says, “this is actually a lot of fun.”

At that, Kurt just full-on _grins_ at him. “I thought you might like it,” he says. “What with the theme of the night and all.”

Which, of course, reminds Blaine that he's got a whole movie to sit through on his thoroughly bruised behind, and he can't help but whimper a little at the thought. What he needs is something that will let him stay at the rink, but not skating. “In the interest of being able to actually sit through the movie,” he says, “I propose that we take advantage of the oh-so-sad and lonely karaoke machine in the middle of the skate floor.”

Kurt grins at him, arching one perfect eyebrow. “Need I remind you what happened the _last_ time you got near a karaoke machine?”

Blaine winces at the memory of Rachel Berry's lips and far, far too much alcohol. “Honestly, Kurt-- do you think I could skate this well drunk?”

“Well, you might actually skate better if you were a little more relaxed, but seeing as you're not trying to make out with anyone,” (Blaine can hear the unspoken _including me_ there, and resolves to make up for it by the end of the evening), “I suppose we can sing something. Not 'Candles,'” Kurt adds quickly. “Something that isn't actually a break-up song.”

“Mm,” Blaine hums. “Something following the theme of the evening?”

They manage to get to the karaoke machine and its binders of songs without running anyone over (or getting run over themselves). There's a whole list of Oldies-- Blaine is seriously concerned that there are a few songs from the early 1980's on the list, which still feels far too recent to be counted under _Oldies_ \-- but there are great songs from the 1950's and 60's as well.

“'All Shook Up!'” Blaine says, excited-- Elvis _totally_ fits the mood.

But Kurt is shaking his head. “I really can't pull off the hip thrusts while wearing roller skates. And also, _no_.”

“What about...” Blaine scans the lists for something that isn't too romantic (he can't forget that they're in Ohio, still, and that once they start singing, everyone will be watching), but will still be fun to sing. “'Dancing in the Streets?'” he asks.

“A bit out of the time period, but an excellent choice,” Kurt says graciously, so they punch in the number and wait for the music to start.

It's entirely unrehearsed and imperfect, which is so different from how Blaine usually sings that he's thrown off, sometimes, but Kurt is always there to pick up the slack and make the song _work_. By the end of it they're trading lines of harmony and melody and the other skaters actually look like they're into the song-- there's a pair of skaters who have obviously worked together before who look like they're doing some sort of swing dance on skates, and it's really, truly, awesome.

The song just sort of fades out at the end, and Blaine and Kurt bow at the scattered applause from the skate floor. “We'll be here all night,” Blaine calls, but Kurt tugs him off the platform and back into the flow of skaters.

“Five more songs?” Kurt says. “Then it should be time to head off to the drive-in.”

“Doesn't the movie start at 11?” Blaine asks.

Kurt's blush is just barely visible in the neon lights and the occasional flash from the disco ball. “I'm leaving time for... traffic,” he says.

“The kind of traffic that happens in parking lots?” Blaine says, grinning.

“Yes,” Kurt clicks, and Blaine can see him fighting back a smile. There's a pause as the song changes, and Kurt gasps. “They _never_ play Cher,” he gushes. 'Train of Thought' bumps through the stereo system; Kurt lets go of Blaine's hand again, darting and weaving through the crowd of skaters. When Kurt reaches the corners – mostly empty – he throws in a few twirls for good measure.

He coasts up next to Blaine again, bumping his shoulder playfully. Blaine follows Kurt's gaze down to the floor and mimics the motions: up, back, forward, out. They half-skate, half-dance down a straightaway before Kurt starts skating in circles around Blaine. Blaine, laughing, tries to follow Kurt with his eyes, but he's not practiced enough to multitask quite yet, so he leans a little too far forward and trips, stumbling. Kurt presses a hand to Blaine's chest to break his fall at the same moment that Blaine grasps wildly at Kurt's arm, and then they're _both_ on the floor, breathless and laughing and-

Blaine looks up to find Kurt's face inches from his and there's a low, swooping sensation in his stomach as their eyes fix on each other. Kurt bites his lip shyly and Blaine knows what that means, knows what Kurt wants, but his eyes shift to a woman sitting just outside the rink near them; she shoots daggers at them as her children trot onto the rink, well-practiced (and seriously, is _everyone_ better at this than Blaine?). Blaine shifts his attention back to Kurt, trying to break the tension. “Okay, seriously, we should go,” he laughs halfheartedly. “If I stay out on this rink any longer, I'm going to _die_.”

Kurt pushes himself off the floor and helps Blaine up. “One more song?” he asks hopefully. He looks so cute (and seriously, the James Dean look _does_ things for Blaine) that Blaine weakly caves. 'So What' starts to play, and Kurt laughs out loud when Blaine gasps. “Oh, I forgot, you have such a strong love for Pink, don't you?”

“Yes!” Blaine cheers, pulling his arms in victoriously. And then Blaine's sort of... squatting? He's coasting along with his knees bent and hey, that's new. He can hear Kurt applauding behind him, and then next to him and in front of him. When he gets to the corner, Blaine knows he's going to have to right himself because he still hasn't mastered turning but he's not exactly sure _how_ he's supposed to do that. Placing his hands on his knees, he pushes against them to lift himself and-

“Gravity has a thing for you tonight,” Kurt comments as he coasts to a stop in front of Blaine. Blaine grumbles and lets Kurt pull him upright again (and honestly, how many times is Blaine going to fall tonight?). “Do you want to stop?” Kurt offers gently. “The song's almost over.”

Blaine shakes his head, grasping onto Kurt's shoulder. “No, we can stay for a few more. Just... give me a minute.” Kurt fidgets next to him, and Blaine rolls his eyes. “Go skate,” he laughs. “I can grab onto the wall if I feel like I'm gonna fall again.”

Kurt arches an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed you were going to stay away from walls the rest of the night,” he quips.

“Go,” Blaine says, pushing Kurt forward. Kurt's off and Blaine tries to focus on getting one foot in front of the other again. He manages another song without falling but when he starts another lap, he spots a small girl in front of him. She can't be more than four, if that, and she's as unsteady on her feet as Blaine, clunking along near the wall. Every few feet she wobbles a little too much and reaches out violently to grab at the railing protruding from the wall.

Blaine skates – actually skates! - up next to her and smiles down at her. “Hi,” he greets cheerfully.

She blinks up at him (and oh, how nice it is for Blaine to finally be talking to someone shorter than him, never mind the fact that she's a _child_ ) and starts a little. “Hi,” she says timidly.

It occurs to Blaine that she's probably been instructed not to speak to strangers and he doesn't want to contradict that lesson but she looks so _lonely_ \- “Are you by yourself?”

She shakes her head. “My big sister brought me.” The girl points in the direction of a few girls on the other side of the rink, talking and laughing and – oh my god, are they texting and skating at the same time? How do they _do_ that? “I don't know how to skate,” she says miserably, puffing out her lower lip.

Blaine smiles warmly and leans down a little, careful not to squat all the way again. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers. The girl nods, eyes wide. “This is my first time too.”

A laugh lights up her face. “Really?”

“Really,” Blaine assures her, matching her laugh.

“Did somebody leave you by yourself too?” she asks.

Blaine looks up, eyes scanning the rink. “See that boy in the white shirt?” he says, pointing across the rink where Kurt gliding along with one leg extended behind him (seriously, so unfair). “He was my teacher tonight. He helped me up when I fell down.” _Every_ time he fell down, Blaine notes, and really, he owes Kurt big time when they hit parking lot traffic later.

“I don't like falling down,” she comments, and Blaine laughs, because oh how he feels her pain. “That was nice of him, the boy,” she adds, pointing at Kurt, “to help you up when you fell down.”

Blaine glances up and catches Kurt's eye across the floor; Kurt cocks an eyebrow, and Blaine smiles warmly. “He's a nice boy.” He turns his attention back to the girl and offers his hand. “My name is Blaine. Will you skate with me?”

The girl giggles and takes his hand, releasing her grip on the railing. “I'm Natalie,” she says shyly.

“Well, Natalie, what do you say we try and skate over to your sister without falling down? Do you think we can do it?” She nods, smiling brightly, and together, they tromp and clomp their way around the rink to Abba's 'Super Trouper.' Blaine looks up halfway through their trek to find Kurt leaning stationary against the wall, watching them with a fond smile on his face. Blaine smiles back but then stumbles because – oh. Kurt is leaning and his shirt is so fitted and Blaine is sorely tempted to suggest foregoing the theater and just watching 'Rebel Without a Cause' at home because seriously – this is not an appropriate time to be getting worked up over the fact that his boyfriend is rocking the James Dean look. He is holding a little girl's hand, for crying out loud.

Blaine deposits Natalie with her sister and has to fight the urge to laugh because she looks annoyed and alarmed and intrigued all at the same time. Natalie waves at him wildly as she clutches her sister's hand. “Bye, Blaine!”

“Bye, Natalie,” he laughs. He coasts speedily over to Kurt and collides into him, pushing Kurt a little more against the wall. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Kurt laughs, trying to disentangle himself from Blaine. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, grinning. “Looks like you made a new friend.”

“I did,” Blaine says brightly. “Natalie. We bonded over the fact that we were abandoned in our hour of need.”

“I helped you up!” Kurt protests indignantly.

“You did,” Blaine concedes, and the atmosphere shifts suddenly. “What do you say we get out of here?” he suggests, his voice low. “Get there early for the... previews?”

A flush makes its way up Kurt's neck again and he bites his lip, nodding. They untie their laces, and when they set Blaine's rental skates back on the counter, Blaine slips an arm around Kurt's waist again, pressing his lips to Kurt's ear. “Plus, more time for traffic,” he says hotly.

In the car, the steady pulse of music and the faint glow of neon from the rink become dull and muted. Kurt turns to Blaine. “Are you okay?”

“I'll live,” Blaine chuckles.

Kurt doesn't look convinced. “You fell down,” he points out. “Like a lot. A lot, a lot.”

“Not all of us can have your natural grace and athleticism, dear,” Blaine chides.

“Years of being a dancer,” Kurt dismisses with a wave of his hand.

“And a football player. And a cheerleader,” Blaine tacks on. “Seriously, is there anything you _can't_ do?”

“Plenty,” Kurt mumbles.

“Mmm,” Blaine muses. “Well, luckily, this isn't one of them.” Kurt starts to make a questioning noise but is cut off when Blaine tugs him in for a heated kiss, lips and teeth and tongues wet and hungry and-

“ _Whoa_ ,” Kurt breathes. “Slow down there, Elvis. We haven't even taken the car out of park yet, much less hit any traffic.”

“We could just stay in park,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt's lips.

Kurt laughs. “Think about what you just said.”

Blaine's brow furrows in confusion. “I- oh.” He blushes. “Not what I meant, I-”

Kurt smirks, pushing Blaine back into the driver's seat a little forcefully. “Drive. I think these are four wheels you can handle.”


End file.
